Light And Love- They're No Joke

I am having a hard time getting out of bed in the morning these days. Never once in my life have I stayed in bed all day that I can remember, unless I was quite ill. I do get up and sometimes that is one of the hardest things I do all day. But this morning, when I finally got out of bed, I looked at the bark cloth I have stretched as a curtain over the lower part of the window over our bed with the sun shining through it and it brought me comfort. The light made the flowers come alive and I felt I could get on with it. My life. 
Sometimes it is the little things but you have to be well enough in spirit to notice and take them in. And when I am, I am grateful for that, too. 
(And thank you, Linda Sue.) 

Glen had a Medicare wellness check with Dr. Zorn today and then he was off to the lake to nail up drywall. Lots and lots of drywall. Or sheetrock, same/same. Yesterday he spent all day long dealing with the vines and trees they cover in the border between our property and the church next door. And that is hard, hard work. Hot work. Insect-biting work. I do not know how the man does it. 
He doesn't need a Medicare wellness check. He could just send in pictures of what he does in a day. 
I wanted to go get my seeds for the fall and winter garden, as I said yesterday. Jessie met me at the nursery where they had a blood mobile set up for people to donate and she did that. Gift cards, a t-shirt, and a Coca-Cola were all rewarded to her! Of course that's not why she did it but it didn't hurt. 

I wandered around a bit while she was getting blood syphoned out of her veins and I did not feel good. In fact, I felt like I was getting blood taken out of my body. Woozy and light-headed. This seems to be a new way my body likes to react to certain emotions and moods. This all started, as it so often does, in my teen years with migraines. Then an ulcer, and so on and so forth and I am constantly almost amused at what the mind-body connection can come up with for me. 
Almost amused. Almost being the key word because what if it's not a body reaction to a mental state but instead, a symptom of oncoming sure death? How does one tell? Is it safe to ignore these probably psychosomatic symptoms or are they NOT psychosomatic and need attention? 
This of course only adds to the anxiety and depression. 
Oh, it's just a circus and I am the biggest clown in the tiny car. 

But as soon as Jessie found me in the building where they sell seeds, I began to feel better immediately so I think we know what I was dealing with. We chitter-chattered about the seeds we wanted to buy, the possible new plants we wanted to try, the goings-on, the silly and the sad. I bought enough seeds for five gardens but this is what I always do. And of course every year I vow to plant less of everything. How many turnip plants does one family of two need? Especially when one of the two doesn't really like turnips that much. But I got my packets of collards and mustards, arugula, kale, carrots, sugar snap peas, and lettuces. I am going to plant chives this year and also rainbow Swiss chard which I mostly grow because when it is backlit by the setting sun it is so beautiful. 

Nurseries are lovely, aren't they? I took a few pictures while Jessie was still getting blood drawn. 

I could enlarge that photo, frame it, hang it, and look at it every day. My favorite colors, all right there. Cozumel blues. And teals. And turquoises. 

This is a jewel orchid and I found it in the greenhouse dedicated to houseplants where one could spend thousands of dollars, if not more. Would you look at the design on those leaves?

I am fairly sure that may be a message from beyond our solar system, engraved into botanical beauty. 
I did not buy one. 
Sigh. 

Oh! Here's a good one!

I was so tempted to buy these seeds. I told Jessie that I would definitely get drunk and plant them if I did. 

We made our purchases, we went to lunch, we talked about childbirth and books and children and husbands. And then we went right down the street to a thrift store where we found many objects of interest. Some hilarious, some practical, some very much what-the-fuckish? We saw a dress that had a skirt made entirely of silk. A printed silk that was beautiful but the bodice (and it was strapless) was the most hideous fake jeweled thing you ever saw. (What-the-fuckish?) I should have bought it just for the silk. The skirt was voluminous and I think an entire dress could have been made from it, or at least another skirt with the horrid giant fake jewels cut off. 
I didn't buy it. Non-buyers remorse?

I did buy some placemats and some napkins. The napkins are gorgeous. They are labled as coming from Sak's Fifth Avenue, obviously never, ever used, and still as ironed and starched as the day they were probably bought for a wedding or anniversary present and then tucked into a drawer. Ten of them. Damask. White. Beautiful. 

And here's the thing- I thought I was going to be paying about twenty-five dollars, if not a bit more, for the placemats and the napkins and I considered that to be a deal. The guy at the counter rang me up and said, "One ninety six." 
My mind could not take in what he meant.
"One hundred and ninety-six dollars?" I asked. 
"No. One dollar and ninety-six cents." 
"But they're marked higher than that!" I said. 
He shrugged. 
"Yeah. Well." 
I still can't believe it. I love old white damask napkins. They are so sturdy, can survive many, many washings, and can be used for things like lining a bowl to receive and cover bread. 

And after all of that, I went to a giant shoe store and bought myself a new pair of walking shoes. The ones I've been wearing were bought online during the Covid lock-down. This says more about how much walking I've been doing in the past five years than it does about anything else, but here we are and I have new shoes in which to walk. 

I had planned on going to Publix but FUCK THAT! I was done. 

Pottery tomorrow. We shall see if the flower bowl made it through firing. I hope so. I would love to paint it for glazing. 

So today turned out to be just fine. Getting out of bed was a good thing to do. 

Now if I only had the life force of those marigolds. 

I believe I will go boil some tofu. 

Love...Ms. Moon